Shared guilt
by KauriFish
Summary: Why IWRY wasn't so unfair, after all. Dark themes.
1. An unwise choice

Friday night

Buffy should have known it was a bad idea. But the way Angel flinched from the stray shafts of light that made their way into the office was too much like the way he flinched from her angry and hurt glances. The tension in the room was intense and rose steadily after Cordelia left, dragging Doyle with her. It was her suggestion that they speak somewhere darker. Besides, seeing him in daylight, as she had so rarely in Sunnydale, reminded her too much of her many, many fantasies of him whole and human. Or at least wearing the Gem of Amarra and immune from danger. The fact that he had destroyed the ring, throwing away the possiblity of sharing the sunlight with her, pissed her off more than she could have imagined. He caught her glance at his empty finger and looked away, shamefaced.

Angel had not considered her feelings when he had destroyed it, and that extra undercurrent of resentment and betrayal heightened his feelings of misery more than he could have imagined.

He had imagined her here in his space so many times, and the reality was a sad substitute. He offered her tea or chocolate, and she declined, which he took as a bad sign. She questioned him. Why had he come to Sunnydale? Why could he see her but she could not see him? Why didn't she rate more highly? Why didn't he care? The questions stung, and he stammered, the eloquent replies that had flowed so freely during his daydreams twisting around themselves and he wilted under her angry stare.

"Damn it Angel, this isn't fair!"

Something in him snapped.

"No, it isn't fair," he shouted. "It will never be fair. Go, at least take your freedom while you can."

Buffy's face crumbled and a tear stole down her cheek. "But I want you."

He control broke and he strode over to her, lifting her in his embrace.

"God, Buffy, I missed you, oh I missed you."

"Every day, every night," she crooned, hugging him back. "Whether you're lurking or not. I want you — in my life, by my side, in my bed."

At that, something fractured inside him, came apart completely as she touched his face. Neither his mind nor his heart could bear the pain, the burden of self-enforced responsibility and discipline. That part of himself was rudely shoved to the background as something else, infinitely more primal, came forth. Buffy felt it as a softening of his body against hers, then a surge of force as he grabbed her close and began tearing at her clothes. Panic gripped her and she looked desperately into his eyes, but saw no one in those dark depths, no more than when he had newly returned from Hell. The maddened and wild creature tore desperately at her clothes, brushing aside her resisting hands. When his seeking mouth found the mark on her neck, she realized the gravity of her peril. As the last shreds of her clothing fell from her, he flung her to the floor, shedding his clothing in a moment, and fell upon her like a starving man upon a feast. His hands left bruises on her flanks and scratches on her back as he strove for a union that surpassed passion — even obsession. His teeth found their mark and sank in. The rich, delicious taste electrified his being and he drank deeply. He was beyond happiness, beyond joy into perfect, mindless urgency.

Buffy gasped in his embrace, feeling her life being squeezed and drained from her as he pounded relentlessly into her. She tried to call him back, calling his name, to recall him to himself, but he remained oblivious to all but her body beneath his and her blood in his throat. When he did not respond to her cries, she began to struggle. He gripped her tighter, slowing neither his relentless pace nor the frenzy of his feeding. A moment later he reared his head back and roared. She felt her body's response, but was too weak to do anything but lie limply in his grasp. He picked her up and fell into the bed with her. As he began all over again, Buffy felt consciousness drift away.


	2. An attack in the night

Friday night

She woke to find him nestled behind her, his arms like steel bands around her. She felt so weak and sore, but the feeling of him cradling her was wonderful, the feeling denied after their first encounter. He was so still that she thought he must be asleep, and she wrapped her arms around his, her fingers idly caressing the backs of his hands. Her caress stirred him, and he grasped her more firmly to him and rubbed himself against her, lowering his face against her shoulder.

Buffy let herself enjoy his touch, warmed by long contact with her body heat. She felt engulfed, not only in his embrace and lust and need, but in this dark space they had shared for some countless time.

Just then a loud, crashing noise came from the staircase. A demon leapt into view and Angel snarled and hurled himself toward it with a territorial cry. The demon snatched an ax off the wall and smashed it into Angel's chest, just before the vampire tackled him. The two staggered into the kitchen, and Buffy watched the struggle, too weak to rise but wishing to help her mate. Angel tackled the demon and clawed him, gouging out chunks of flesh.

Demon blood covered the pair, and in a frenzy, Angel lifted the demon and smashed him into the kitchen table. The demon's forehead struck a cast iron skillet, smashing the red stone on his forehead. He exploded into light, utterly destroyed. Angel roared with triumph and turned back toward the bed, where Buffy had managed to drag herself to the edge and put her feet on the ground. The vampire rushed toward his lover to reclaim her, his seat and the demon's ichor coating both of them as he tumbled her onto the bed. She welcomed him, deeply relieved that the threat was vanquished. As he touched her, a shiver came over him and he collapsed on top of her.

"Angel?" she cried, her hands feeling his face. A moment later, a rush overcame her as well as the demon blood found its way into her many wounds. She gasped and clutched her lover, who was flushing hot and cold, gripped by an excruciating sensation. White light seared though both their bodies. Then darkness took them both.


	3. The morning after

Saturday morning

Buffy awoke to a strange sensation, a heartbeat against her cheek. Angel was holding her against him, with warm arms, and her cheek was pressed against a chest that held a beating heart, his beating heart. Her head jerked up and she looked at his sleeping face, faintly flush. She had felt fine from the moment she awoke, easily fit enough to save the world. But seeing her love mortal made her feel invincible. The dark memory of the past hours was instantly eclipsed by wonder and joy. She reached to embrace him — then realized they were both covered with sweat, blood and other sticky substances. She grimaced.

"Angel, honey," she called softly, shaking him gently. He stirred slightly and tightened his arms around her. "Angel, come on, rise and shine. Have I got a surprise for you." His eyes slowly peeled open and he looked at her, a smile lighting on his lips. "Buffy," he said, drinking in the sight of her lying cuddled against him, for the moment not thinking of how she got there. "Yes, Buffy," she said. "This is me. In bed. But Buffy should be in the shower. And so should Angel. Come on."

They rose together, and he looked down and saw their nude, sticky bodies. His face fell. "Oh God, Buffy, did I lose my soul? What happened? Did I hurt you?" She put her hand over his lips. "Sssh, don't worry about that. I'm not hurt and I think you won't be having any more problems with your soul. Check this out."

She took his hand and placed it over his heart and looked at him intently. He stared at her, confused, for a moment, then felt the gentle thump under his palm, which quickened as he realized what it meant. He looked at her, eyes full of wonder. "Buffy, how did you do this?" She smiled. "I don't know. Let's call it a miracle for the moment. Answers can wait until after showers. And breakfast." His eyes widened. "Breakfast," he whispered reverently. "I'm so hungry." "Then let's make that one shower, so we can eat sooner," she said, smiling. He pointed her toward the bathroom and she pulled him into it. The shower was large and fit the big man and the small Slayer easily. She kept up a babbling flow of talk about breakfast as she soaped and rinsed them both. With fluffy towels wrapped around them both, she soon had eggs in the skillet — though not the one covered with ruby dust — and coffee brewing. She was relieved, if puzzled, to find breakfast makings. She sat Angel in a chair pulled from the living room and shoved the shattered remains of the kitchen table to the side and got to work stirring eggs and setting bread to toast. Angel pounded down most of a gallon of orange juice and wolfed down several slices of bread before remembering that they had problems.

"Buffy," he started after tossing the jug into the recycling bin, "What happened last night? How did I become human?"

She handed him a plate piled with eggs and toast and sat down beside him with a similarly laden plate. Through a mouthful, she said, "I came here to chew you out for coming to Sunnydale on Thanksgiving without saying hi. We kind of got carried away with saying, 'I missed you,' then this demon guy came in. You killed him and got his blood all over you. I was trying to patch you up when you fell asleep. When you came to, poof, no more vampire." She counted on his human senses being unable to detect that her blood as well as his had been in the mix, as well as his total lack of memory of the previous day and night. He blinked in astonishment at this news, all the while scarfing down breakfast. "This is so good," he moaned, "And that is so weird." "What?" asked Buffy, eager to keep the conversation on food. "You don't like your eggs all hard and rubbery, do you?" "No, the eggs are fabulous. Thanks for cooking. I always wondered why Cordelia and Doyle were so happy when I made them breakfast after a night of demon hunting." "Oh yeah," she replied quickly. "Nothing like a good breakfast after battling the forces of darkness. Next time, I kill the demon and you can make breakfast. I was wondering why you had eggs and things. I guess having mortal coworkers explains it. No bacon, though." "Oh my God, bacon!" he exclaimed, swallowing the last of his toast and chasing it with the dregs of his coffee. "I got it once but Cordy won't eat it and some of went bad and the stink drove me crazy." "Oh, ick," Buffy said, piling dishes in the sink. "That would explain it. Why don't we get dressed and go the grocery store? We're going to want more than eggs and toast, which you're out of now anyway.

Angel snapped out of his food-induced haze and looked at her. He took her hand gently, and she thrilled at his warm touch.

"Buffy, last night, did we —" "Oh yeah, we did," she said. "Big time."

"While I was still a vampire?" "Um, yeah."

"But I didn't turn into... him?" "Nope. We were both a bit crazy," she shrugged and gestured toward the bed. "But I guess the feelings were mixed enough that no perfect happiness happened. Which means you still have that to look forward to today." She grinned and climbed onto his lap. He reflexively wrapped his arms around her. He was eager for her, but not so pressingly as he would have thought, especially as her towel came undone. She saw the brooding threatening to come back into his eyes and took preventative action.

She stood, dropping her towel. "Do you have some clothes I could borrow? We were kind of hard on my outfit. She was delighted to see him blush, and he moved to a closet and dug out a stack of clothes, just her size. She grinned at him. "Why Angel, were you planning to ask me to spend the night?" He blushed darker. "I was getting some clothes for me and then I saw these and I thought — well, I don't know what I was thinking."

She traipsed up to him and kissed him lightly, her arms around his neck. "Well, thank you. It's a good thing you had them or I'd be trying to wear your stuff, which wouldn't work on me at all. Speaking of clothes, we're going to have to get you some different ones. The all-black thing just won't work for you anymore."

He smiled broadly, giving up to her. "Whatever you say." "Ooh, I like the sound of that," she said, dragging his face down to hers, nuzzling then kissing him deeply. His arms wrapped around her and he squeezed her tightly.

"Oof, wow, that's some grip you've got, mister," the Slayer said. Angel shook his head. "I'm sorry, Buffy. I should have normal mortal strength now, right?"

"I dunno," she said, angling for another kiss.

"Buffy —" she stopped him.

"I know," she said with a sigh. "First research, then smoochies. And shopping."

He smiled at her, and they dressed quickly.


	4. What now?

Saturday, around noon

Cordelia and Doyle were poking through the shattered remains of the office upstairs when they returned. Cordelia whirled in shock. "Is he evil?" she asked Buffy. "Did you do the groiny thing and turn him evil?"

"Nope, no evil," she said, guiding Angel into the sunlight. He basked in the unfamiliar warmth, and his employees gaped at the sight. "He's human now," Buffy explained. "He got some demon guy's blood on him and he went all human."

Doyle hunted through books scattered on the floor and showed several pictures to Buffy. After a few she said, "Yup, that's the guy."

"A Mohra demon," Doyle explained. Cordelia, annoyed by the mess the rampaging demon had left in his hunt for the vampire, quipped, "Really? I was thinking it was more like a rock star demon. Maybe like a whole rock band." The other three ignored her. "A Mohra demon's veins flow with the blood of eternity," Doyle read, then looked up at his boss. "His blood must have restored your humanity."

"Oh my God," Buffy said, grinning. "Giles is so pwned. He totally told me there was no cure for vampires. He's gonna freak when we tell him."

"Oh, yeah," said Cordelia helpfully. "Because he's going to be happy to forgive the guy who almost tortured him to death. He's totally over that whole thing now."

Buffy shot her an exasperated look. "Come on, Cordy, that was Angelus, who is now no longer in the picture. It's just Angel from now on."

"Great," the brunette replied. "Good thing it's still early in the day so I can get my unemployment application in. You were paying unemployment taxes, weren't you, Angel?"

The former vampire shook his head. "This is all too sudden. I don't know what's going to happen with the business."

Buffy stood in front of her lover and grabbed his hands behind her back.

"But we're not going to go on about that now because Angel and I are going shopping. Bye." She then dragged him out the door, into the sunlight.


	5. For peanuts

On the street

Angel blinked in the bright sunshine, staring around them.

"Is it always this bright during the day?" he asked.

"Generally," Buffy replied, smiling and taking her arm in his. "Or at least, in Southern California.

At her urging they set off at a brisk walk toward the shopping district.

"We could move to Seattle, I suppose. I hear it's nice and gloomy up there," she continued.

Catching his deer-in-the-headlights look, she quickly amended, "If you want — I mean, you've been here for months. If there's someone else —"

"Someone else?" he asked, incredulous.

"Okay, I guess not," she replied.

"But what about you? I thought you were going to..." he trailed off, uncertain.

"Try the normal thing?" she asked. "Didn't work. No one else was you." Angel only realized that he had tensed up when he felt himself relax.

"Okay," he said. "How long can you stay?"

"I have class Monday afternoon. And it's what, Saturday, now? God, did I only come up yesterday? It seems like forever, what with the demon and all..." she trailed off.

They were passing a cafe and Angel wandered over to peruse the menu.'

"Let's have lunch," he announced, starting to head in.

"But we just had breakfast," she protested.

"They have something called a tin roof sundae," he replied.

"Let's go," she said.


	6. Human things

Saturday afternoon

"I think you only have a beer fridge. How are we going to fit all this ice cream in there?" Buffy asked as they burst through the AI doors, laden with purchases.

"There's the fridge upstairs, too," Angel pointed out, setting down bags of groceries on the table. Cordelia and Doyle were nowhere to be seen, which suited Buffy just fine. "Let's get this down to your apartment," she suggested. Angel was busily trying to fit food into the fridge. "Why?" he asked, distracted, as she sidled up behind him and put her hands under his shirt, gently tickling his skin.

"We've eaten, we've shopped, but there are certain things I have not done with the human you that I'm very eager to try." She stood on her toes and whispered in his ear. He stiffened — in both senses.

"Buffy, we haven't really talked—" he said, melting under her touch. She blew in his ear and traced her fingertips up and down his neck. "We've talked. I love you, you love me, and we're going to be together. What more need be said?"

"Buffy, you know I don't want anything more than to be with you, but there are all these unanswered questions—" "Doyle said demon blood," she answered. "That explains how," he admitted. "But why was he looking for me? And why don't I remember anything? And why am I still so strong?"

Angel turned and caught a guilty look on her face. "Buffy?" he asked, somewhat threateningly. "I don't know, she said, putting her hands up in surrender. "We were just... making love, and the demon came in and you jumped him and killed him. "I didn't see a body," Angel mused. "How did I kill him?" "Remember the kitchen table? How it's all broken? You threw him through that and he exploded."

"Was I using a weapon?" he asked.

"Nope, bare hands," she murmured, entranced by what she was touching.

"No weapons. I wish I could remember why. There's a reason I keep an arsenal downstairs." "I'd say you were kind of distracted. Also kind of naked," she added, wrapping herself around him. "I mean, we were in the middle of something."

"And we were doing that all afternoon and all night? I wish I could remember that." Buffy managed to keep a straight face. "I guess I'm just not that memorable," she quipped, then reached up to kiss him. "But since you don't remember, maybe we should go downstairs and make some fresh memories." He succumbed at last and they headed downstairs, a bag of groceries — including ice cream — in hand. Also, condoms.

"I'm the luckiest guy in the world," he said, just before words stopped. But a feeling nagged at him. His luck was never good, was it?


	7. No excuses

Laughing, Buffy flipped Angel over and straddled him, grabbing his wrists to bring his arms over his head and claim a kiss. He broke free and turned the tables, his arms wrapped around her. "God, Buffy, this feels so good. And so familiar. Do you think it's all those dreams we shared last winter?" He nuzzled her, feeling her pulse, blessedly free of blood lust.

"I think it's all those wild fantasies you had about me," she teased, wiggling under him.

"I've had a few of those," he confessed.

"Well, good," she said, giving him a kiss. "I'd hate to think I was the only one fantasizing wildly. So, tell me, what did you fantasize about?"

"Why don't I show you, instead?" he asked, sliding down her body.

"Oh yes," she said. Then repeated herself. Repeatedly.

Saturday evening

Angel drifted back to consciousness, no longer quite so surprised to feel the Slayer in his arms. He mused pleasantly on their afternoon together. It had been so wonderful, he thought, really nothing like — a cascade of memory crashed into him — Buffy writhing under him, his fangs buried in her neck — Buffy crying for mercy, begging him to stop as he plundered her in animalistic abandon. The memories of the night before mercilessly poured into his waking mind and he cringed away from his lover, feeling horribly evil and unclean. Buffy woke as he moved away. "Angel, honey?" she asked sleepily, reaching for him. The sound of his weeping brought her to full alert. She reached again to hold him and he pushed her away.

"How can you touch me after what I did to you?" he asked, weeping.

Buffy started to cry as well. "It wasn't you," she said adamantly.

Angel stood and wrapped a robe around himself and began striding about the room.

"I don't have the excuse of losing my soul this time," he said angrily. "That wasn't the demon. It was me." "No," Buffy objected. "It wasn't you, it was like when you came back from Hell. It was like there was an animal in control of you. It was the vampire — and he's gone."

He whirled to face her. "You don't know that. What if that happened again?"

"You can't drain me anymore," she said. "That's the only reason I wasn't strong enough to stop you."

His eyes lit with an unpleasant understanding.

"That's why I'm as strong as you," he said. "I was full of your blood — Slayer blood — when the demon blood touched me. I have your strength."

"And that's a good thing," she said. "You're not a normal man, you can keep fighting evil, this time, by my side."

"No," he said, his face full of misery and shame. "There's no good here. It's stolen strength. You didn't give it to me of your own will this time." She stood before him and gripped his hands in hers.

"If I had known what was going to happen, I would have," she said, absolutely.

"But you didn't. You thought I was going to kill you. And I would have."

"But you didn't, and now that will never happen," she rejoined, wiping at her tears furiously. "We finally had a lucky break. We can be together now. Sunshine? Picnics? Check. So why are we still here in the dark?" she asked, taking his hand again. He shook it off.

"I may not be a vampire, but I'm still a monster. How can you touched me after I forced you?"

Buffy took a deep breath and prayed for strength.

"Because I can. I lived though all that Angelus concocted for me, and I lived though last night. I didn't die. Believe me, I know the difference. I don't even have any new scars."

Angel rebuffed her seeking hands and huddled into a corner.

"Get away from me," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm not fit for human company, and certainly not yours. Forget about me."

Buffy watched him try to melt into the shadows.

"I'll never forget you," she said, then turned and ran into the elevator. Slamming the door shut, she watched him as she gradually rose out of sight.


	8. Answers

AI offices

"Look who's taking a break from the boinking," said Cordelia as Buffy stepped into the office. She and Doyle were finishing cleaning up the demon-made mess. That is, Cordelia was finishing while Doyle snacked on microwave popcorn. "Buffy, hi," he said, wiping unpopped kernels from his lips. "This is great, I've never seen the fridge so full of food. Usually it's just that creamer stuff for the coffee, and I don't think it really needs to be refrigerated. I can see you're a good influence on—" he stopped, finally registering the look on her face. "What's wrong?" he asked, beginning to panic. "Did it wear off? Is he—" "No," she said. "He's still human. But he's also still Angel and he can't let go of his past. Determined to be miserable."

"That's our boss," said Cordelia. "Or former boss, anyway. Did he say we're out of business? What about our severance packages?"

"He didn't say anything," Buffy told her. "He's too busy wallowing in shame to think about anything else. Besides, he'll probably be ready to get back on the guilt crusade by tonight at the rate he's going," she said bitterly.

"But he's a normal man now, not much of a crusader," Doyle pointed out.

Buffy shook her head. "No, he's still strong. Really strong, actually." Doyle looked puzzled and Buffy decided to enlighten the pair. "He kind of fed from me — a lot — before the Mothra demon bled on him."

"Mohra," Doyle corrected, absently. "So he has the strength of a slayer, forever?" he asked, getting excited. Buffy nodded.

"Oh man, this is perfect," he said.

"Plus, no more worries about him eating clients before we get paid," Cordelia said brightly, starting to unpack a box she had packed only moments before.

"Did he ever—" Buffy started to ask.

"No," Doyle assured her.

"But I always worried," Cordelia said. "And now I don't work for a vampire anymore, and he'll never go all evil and torture us to death. That's such a weight off my mind," she added with evident relief.

"But he's still in a bad way with the guilt?" Doyle asked, gently.

"Oh yeah," Buffy replied. "It's like he can't accept that this all happened for the best. He has so many questions, and they'll probably never have answers."

"Sounds like he needs the Oracles, then," Doyle said.

"Oracles?" Buffy asked.


	9. The bargain

Under the post office

"The Slayer approaches," said the male oracle, drawing close to his counterpart, his eyes lighting with something like awe. "What does the Chosen One want?"

"I need to know why Angel became human, and I know it can't just be because he got slicked up with demon blood. What's the deal?"

"The Powers for which we speak meddle but rarely in the affairs of lower creatures," the female oracle pronounced. "There may have been many consequences of the Warrior's confrontation with the Mohra demon. This was perhaps the luckiest."

"Except that it's driving him crazy," said Buffy, feeling a little wiggy at the way the pair were looking at her. Or maybe it was their paint. "What can I do? Everything is perfect except that Angel's guilt is pulling him away from me."

"The Warrior's character is what makes him a fit tool for the Powers," said the female. "As long as he remembers, he will be driven by his guilt. It will fuel the fires that purge this world of evil."

"So, does he need therapy?" Buffy asked, hopefully.

The Oracles shared a glance, then the male spoke thoughtfully. "If the Warrior destroys himself, he will leave the Slayer unprotected at a critical time. This must not be."

"Destroys himself?" Buffy asked incredulously. "Suicide? After 100 years of guilt over being a vampire and he doesn't do the Kevorkian with a stake. But one night with me and he's gonna throw himself in front of a truck? I don't get it."

The female smiled. "You are strong, Chosen One. Stronger even than the Warrior, body and mind. Will you take his memories of that time from him into yourself? Then you will know why he was so guilt-ridden and the burden will be lifted from him. You will be free to begin your life together — so long as you have the strength to bear the burden of that memory for both of you. I will grant this boon if you ask it."

"Yes," Buffy nearly shouted, then considered for a moment. " I mean, I remember it from my point of view anyway, so how bad could it be?"

The Oracles smiled and made an elegant gesture as one. Memories buffeted Buffy like winds trying to push her over a cliff. She remembered: animal delight, the taste of blood, her body struggling deliciously under his weight, his blesh pounding into hers, wild abandon, the awesome power of climax laced with Slayer blood, the thrill of combat and death, of defending his territory and mate, his property. Buffy staggered and fell, her stomach heaving, her mind overwhelmed. She turned her face back up and saw only blank wall. The Oracles were done with her, their bargain met. Now she only needed to live with it.


	10. Everything's fine

Saturday night

Buffy walked slowly back to Angel Investigations, Doyle silent by her side. Finally he broke the silence.

"Bad news?" he asked.

"No, not exactly," she replied. They walked in silence for a few more blocks.

"So, not bad how?" he asked.

Images from Angel's mind still rocked inside her head.

"It's not so bad," she said absently.

"What did they do to you?" Doyle asked as he saw Buffy clutch her head.

"Nothing," she said. "Nothing I didn't ask them to."

"Oh man, I should have warned you, sometimes people come out really messed up by the Oracles. Angel's already freaked out, if you're —"

"No," Buffy shouted. "Everything's fine and he's not going to be freaked out. We're going to go back and you'll tell Cordelia that it turns out I was wrong about last night, nothing bad happened, he didn't drink from me. He's not going to remember it, and everything's going to be okay."

"Right," said Doyle dubiously, looking at her with concern. "Everything's fine."

Angel was upstairs raiding the fridge, chatting with a puzzled Cordelia when they returned.

"Buffy!" he yelled through a mouthful of sandwich. He caught her up in a hug.

"Guess what?" he cried, putting his hand over her chest.

"Yes, Angel, you're human," Cordelia said impatiently. "Buffy already knows. Guys, Angel is having some kind of mental problem. He doesn't remember the demon or boinking Buffy last night."

Angel ignored Cordelia and fed Buffy a big bite of ice cream bar, watching her face intently as she chewed. "Isn't it wonderful?" he enthused, offering her another bite and taking a huge mouthful, himself.

Cordelia gagged. "If you guys are going to go at it like bunnies up here, too, then I'll clear out."

Angel grabbed the box of ice cream bars in one hand and Buffy in the other and crowded into the elevator.

"See you!" he called as they slipped out of sight.

Cordelia turned to Doyle.

"Oh yeah, we're doomed," she said.

Angel grabbed two of the bars and tossed the rest in the freezer. The trash and recycling bins were nearly full and the fridge was nearly empty. Buffy smiled.

"I can see we're going to have to get you an exercise regime," she said.

"I think you exercise me pretty well," he said, giving her a chocolaty kiss.

She kissed him back with feeling, tingles started to grow in her. Tingles that were quickly swamped by images of him ravaging her on the bed, the bed towards which he was now urging her.

"Whoa, big guy, hold up. I'll get ice cream on your sheets."

"I'll wash them later," he said, kissing her with enthusiasm. She kissed him back, then pressed her hands into his chest, separating their bodies slightly.

"Okay, darling, slow down a minute. You'd think we didn't spend this whole morning in bed."

"Oh, right," he said, ashamed. She felt a surge of concern and looked at him closely. She hadn't triggered a bad memory, had she?

"Are you — I mean — sore?" he asked. "I think I am, a little," he admitted.

She wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his chest.

"Maybe a little. And hungry. But if you take me to dinner, maybe I'll be ready again."

Angel smiled and stroked her hair.

"Anything for you. Anything."

They did get to dinner, but not for a while.


	11. In need of light

Sunday, early morning

Buffy awoke blearily. She cuddled into Angel's chest, focusing on the warm thud of his heart. He stirred.

"Is there any way we can get some curtains open down here?" she asked.

"Mmm... you'll be wanting to redecorate next," he replied sleepily. "The drapes are just for show, we're in the basement. She made a disappointed noise, and he said, "I could move. I'm sure Cordy and Doyle aren't too attached to this place. Maybe somewhere on the south end of town. Make for an easier commute."

"I'm definitely going to have to get a car," Buffy said, resting her palm against his chest.

"I can come and see you," he offered.

"True, and Willow is very tolerant, but do you think she'd be able to sleep through what we did last night?" she pointed out.

"All right, maybe not. We could stay at my apartment."

"No windows there, either," she pointed out.

"Okay," he said. "I'll get a new place, close to the university."

"You'd do that?" she said, starting up with surprise.

"Of course, anything for my girl," he said, delighted and encouraged by her pleasure.

"Your girl," she mused, lying back down. "I like the sound of that. and we can go patrolling again. Together. It will be just like old times. Except we can go for ice cream afterwards. And other things," she leered at him.

"We'll make it work," he said, wrapping his arms around her.

"Yeah, we will," she agreed, feeling more resolution than she allowed in the words.


	12. Panic

Sunday morning

Buffy awoke again, suddenly. Angel's arms were tight around her, and her hunger and thirst and the darkness reminded her too much of that long, dark time. She extracted herself from Angel and the bed and went to the bathroom, flipping on all the lights as she went. She felt bleary and wished desperately for a mirror. She showered and tidied as best as she could and returned to the room for fresh clothes. Angel had turned over, still sleeping deeply. She picked up the phone and called Willow.

"Willow and Buffy's room," the redhead answered.

"Shouldn't that be Buffy and Willow's room?" she asked playfully.

"Buffy, hey, I thought you were going to be back yesterday. How's your dad?"

"Dad's good. We talked for all of five minutes after he got off work on Friday."

"Uh oh, Buffy, have you been visiting a certain vampire of our mutual acquaintance?" Willow asked with trepidation.

"Nope," Buffy said brightly.

"Okay," Willow said searchingly. "An old friend?"

Buffy snickered. "Yup, he's an old friend. But not a vampire."

"Are you going to be mysterious all day?" the witch asked.

"I'm going to tell you. You're just not going to believe me. What's my wildest fantasy?"

"Ooh, ooh. I know. Pierce Brosnan on a deserted island with a case of Godiva."

The Slayer giggled. "Nope. Angel's human."

"Human, like he has feelings? Because I've always said he has feelings for you, even if he's too damned noble to—"

"No, I mean he's human. Feelings, a pulse, the whole package. It was a mystical thing, with demon blood."

Buffy could hear her best friend start to jump up and down.

"Oh my Goddess, Buffy, this is so amazing! Did you tell Giles?"

"Not yet. This is going to be the research coup of the century for him. I'm sure. Mothra demon makes vamps back into humans."

"Mothra? Was Godzilla there, too?" the redhead asked, confused.

"Um, not Mothra. Doyle, Angel's visiony guy, he looked it up for us. Mohra."

"It's a good thing Angel had a soul when it happened. That was lucky."

"Yeah, lucky," Buffy answered, reminded suddenly of Angel's savage feeding. "Listen, Will, I've got to go. Tell Giles I have good news, but don't leak it. I want to see the look on his face when he sees Angel in the sun. I'll be back by morning at the latest."

"Okay, but you've got a pile of homework—"

Buffy groaned. "I don't want to think about it."

"Well," Willow said coyly. "I know I don't have to tell you to be fun. But I can tell you to be careful."

"We've got it covered," Buffy replied, then patiently listened to her friend's giggles.

"Love you, Wills."

"Love you, Buffy."

She hung up. Angel had wakened from the sound of her voice and was sitting in bed, beckoning her. She crawled back in and kissed him.

"It sounds like Willow took the news okay," he observed.

"She was pretty ecstatic for us. Will is the best."

"She's the best witch a friend could hope to have," he said with mock solemnity. "As I can personally attest. If a vampire ever wants to get cursed with a soul, she has my recommendation for the job."

Buffy was stunned. Angel had barely spoken of the events around Acathla's destruction, even obliquely, and now he was making jokes about it? Something was off.

Angel was bursting with delight. He felt so blessed, and it seemed Buffy was just as pleased.

"I had the most wonderful dream about us," he said. "We had a house near campus and I was taking care of the kids while you went to school."

"Kids?" she asked, beginning to feel overwhelmed. He noticed her discomfort.

"It was just a dream. We don't even know if it's possible. We should take this one step at a time."

"Right," Buffy agreed swiftly. "Speaking of which, I should probably go talk to Giles, tell him what happened. Maybe he'll come up with a good explanation."

"Great," he agreed, getting out of bed and dressing. "And I can't wait to see the look on Xander's face when he realizes he can't call me Dead Boy anymore." He grinned at the thought.

"We?" Buffy asked. "Are you coming—"

"You took the bus up here, right? No reason for you to take it back. This way we can make plans, you know, on the way." He finished pulling on his shoes and started to head to the door, then stopped, turned around and returned. He pulled out a small bag and started packing. Buffy cleared her throat.

"As I said about Willow..."

"Oh, I'm not going to intrude. I figured I'd get a hotel room so I can start house hunting. Might as well get lots of good out of the trip." He dropped the bag and hugged her.

"Oh Buffy, I've never had such a good feeling about anything. Can't you tell it's going to be all right?"

Buffy felt panic as he gripped her a little too tightly, and quickly disentangled herself before she lost control.

"Why don't you finish packing . I should go run and say bye to my dad."

"Oh, I'll come with you. I have to meet my future father-in-law," he said, smiling broadly. Buffy's eyes were bugging out slightly.

"I think we should wait, honey," she managed to say calmly. I mean, he doesn't even really know about you —" "And springing me on him might be too much," he completed. He sounded only slightly let down. "Do you want a ride? I could take you on our way out of town."

"It's okay, it's not far," she said, nearly bolting for the stairs.


	13. It's too much

Sunday, around noon

In a blur she was back at the post office.

"The Slayer has returned," the male said.

"Does she not like her boon?" the female asked.

"It's too much!" Buffy said. "Every time he touches me, I feel those memories. They mess up everything."

"This is how the Warrior felt, and why he could not allow himself the comfort of your company, even when the shadow of Angelus was removed," the male told her.

"Can't you undo it, some? Just a little?"

"No, we cannot modify," said the male.

"But we can roll back time — to before you touched, before those dark memories were made."

"Wait, you can go back in time?"

The Oracles smiled silently.

"Okay," said Buffy, clearly wigged. "So if we go back, I could change things."

"You could take one thought with you only, to not put yourself in that danger."

"But the demon would still come, Angel could still be human, but without hurting me first."

"Yes, he would have that opportunity," said the female, smiling sadly.

"Great, let's do it. I'm sure we can work it out without all that extra pain.

The male oracle said, "Your will be done."

There was a flash of light and


	14. Friday afternoon redux

Friday afternoon

Buffy found herself standing in front of Angel. She felt again the urge to go to him, to erase the barriers between them. But something held her back, warned her to wait.

This time will be different, she thought. Then wondered where that came from. Angel would never change. What was the point of holding out hope?


End file.
